"Take that bird away, Arthur, good youth," said the queen; "it makes my head ache."
Arthur obeyed; and as he left the room the hospitaller entered, but not alone. He was followed by a tall, thin, wasted man, dressed in a brown frock, or bure, over which his white beard flowed down to his girdle. In fact, it was Bernard the hermit, that, for the purposes we shall explain, had once more for a time quitted his solitude, and accompanied the minister of Philip Augustus to Compiègne.
The hospitaller bowed his head as he advanced towards the queen, and the hermit gave her his blessing; but still, for a moment, the heart of poor Agnes de Meranie beat so fast, that she could only reply by pointing to two seats which her women left vacant by her side.
"Madame, we come to speak to you on matters of some importance," said Guerin, looking towards the queen's women, who, though withdrawn from her immediate proximity, still stood at a little distance. "Would it please you to let us have a few minutes of your presence alone. Myself and my brother Bernard are both unworthy members of the holy church, and therefore may claim a lady's ear for a short space, without falling into the danger of evil tongues."
"I fear no evil tongues, good brother," replied Agnes, summoning courage to meet whatever was to come; "and though I know of no subject concerning myself that I could wish concealed from the world, yet I will bid these poor girls go at your desire. Go, Blanche," she continued, turning to her principal attendant,--"go, and wait in the ante-room till I call. Now, good brother, may I crave what can be your business with so unimportant a person as my poor self?"
"As far, madam," replied Guerin, after a moment's pause, "as the weal of this great realm of France is concerned, you are certainly any thing but an unimportant person; nor can a fair, a noble, and a virtuous lady ever be unimportant, be she queen or not. My brother Bernard, from whom that most excellent knight and king, your royal husband, has, as doubtless you know, lady, received many sage and prudent counsels, has consented to join himself to me for the bold purpose of laying before you a clear view of the state of this realm, risking thereby, we know, to hurt your feelings, and even to offend our lord the king, who has anxiously kept it concealed from you."
"Hold, fair brother!" said Agnes mildly, but firmly; "and before you proceed, mark me well! Where the good of my noble Philip, or of his kingdom of France, may be obtained by the worst pain you can inflict on me, let no fear of hurting my feelings stop you in your course. Agnes gives you leave to hurt Agnes, for her husband's good; but where, in the slightest degree, the confidence you would place in me is in opposition to the will of Philip, your king and mine, the queen commands you to be silent. Stay, good brother, hear me out: I know that you would say, it is for the king's ultimate good, though he may disapprove of it at present; but to me, good bishop, and you father hermit,--to me, my husband's wisdom is supreme, as his will to me is law; and though I will listen to your counsel and advice with all humility, yet you must tell me nothing that my lord would not have me hear, for on his judgment alone will I depend."
Guerin looked to the hermit, who instantly replied:--"Daughter, you have spoken well, wisely, and nobly; and I, even I, marvel not,--though my heart is like a branch long broken from its stem, withered and verdureless,--that Philip of France clings so fondly to one, where beauty, and wisdom, and love, are so strangely united: strangely indeed for this world! where if any two of such qualities meet, 'tis but as that eastern plant which blossoms but once an age. Let us only to council then, my child, and see what best may be done to save the realm from all the horrors that menace it."
The hermit spoke in a tone of such unwonted mildness, that Guerin, apparently doubting his firmness in executing the purpose that had brought them thither, took up the discourse.
"Lady," said he, "after the ungrateful occurrence which terminated the tournament of the Champeaux,--forgive me, that I recall what must pain you,--you can hardly doubt that our holy father the pope, in his saintly wisdom, considers that the decree of the prelates of France, annulling the marriage of the king with Ingerburge of Denmark, was illegal, and consequently invalid. Need I--need I, lady, urge upon you the consequences, if our royal lord persists in neglecting, or resisting, the repeated commands of the supreme pontiff?"